JOHNNY. Sneering and smartness! Pah!

MARY. [Roused] I'll tell you what, Johnny, it's mucking about with
chivalry that makes your poetry rotten. [JOHNNY seizes her arm and
twists it] Shut up--that hurts. [JOHNNY twists it more] You brute!
[JOHNNY lets her arm go.]

JOHNNY. Ha! So you don't mind taking advantage of the fact that you can
cheek me with impunity, because you're weaker. You've given the whole
show away, Mary. Abolish chivalry and I'll make you sit up.

MRS MARCH. What are you two quarrelling about? Will you bring home
cigarettes, Johnny--not Bogdogunov's Mamelukes--something more
Anglo-American.

JOHNNY. All right! D'you want any more illustrations, Mary?

MARY. Pig! [She has risen and stands rubbing her arm and recovering her
placidity, which is considerable.]

MRS MARCH. Geof, can you eat preserved peaches?

MR MARCH. Hell! What a policy! Um?

MRS MARCH. Can you eat preserved peaches?

MR MARCH. Yes. [To his paper] Making the country stink in the eyes of
the world!

MARY. Nostrils, Dad, nostrils.